


ThuiVi is Awesome

by Kimmy



Series: The Awesome Series [13]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Gift Fic, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 04:05:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimmy/pseuds/Kimmy
Summary: Jace finds a painting in Magnus' attic.





	ThuiVi is Awesome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hyceate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyceate/gifts).



> For @thuivi, the awesome author of the loveliest fanart that inspired it. Find her work on ao3 and on Twitter and tell her how awesome she is!

  


The painting is beautiful. It reminds Jace of secession, and it’s his favourite style, except this seems somehow so… blurry at the same time, despite the sharp lines, almost dynamic, almost moving.

It’s as if she’s alive.

She’s beautiful, dressed simply, hair let down, red curls flowing freely around her face. One of her hands is tucking a stray curl behind her ear, caught in the moment. She is dressed simply, in a green shirt, but she still looks like a queen.

Her gaze is somewhere to Jace’s left and he fights the urge to turn around and check what she’s looking at. When the strange atmosphere takes the better of him and he does, he jumps away, startled.

“Alec!”

His brother is smirking, completely unrepentant of scaring the blonde, glancing at the painting Jace was staring at.

“What’s got you so entranced about that one? You’ve been standing still, just staring at it for the past 10 minutes.”

Jace feels his cheeks warm up, but he turns to look at the painting of the girl again and tries to brush Alec off.

“Nothing. She’s just beautiful.”

The sigh he gets in return is the epitome of Alec, his licensed  _ I’m too gay for this shit _ sigh. It always makes Jace snicker. But although he isn’t into girls, Jace knows even Alec couldn’t deny that she is beautiful in a universal way, a stunning subject done justice to by the artist's’ skilled hand. You don’t have to love something to admire it. 

“I can ask Magnus if we are allowed to drill in the walls and then we’ll think of putting your girl on the wall, alright?”

Jace shakes his head, ducking when Alec tries to ruffle his hair, and tries not to think about the mysterious redhead from the painting as he follows Alec down from the attic, back into their new home.

When Jace and Alec got into college in New York, Magnus, who was Alec’s boyfriend, suggested they look for a flatshare together. They planned to rent something, but then Magnus’ aunt from Netherlands died, leaving him a loft in Brooklyn. 

The place was amazing. Big, so big their bedrooms were far enough from each other the sound didn’t carry too well, which Jace considered a blessing, and rather traditionally, but sturdily furbished. They didn’t need to do much to make the place livable, besides moving a few old belongings to the attic, replacing them with their stuff.

The attic.

The attic was like a different world, it was cluttered, full of antiques that were probably worth more than the loft itself. It was spacious, dark, with a low ceiling, one tiny round window at the end throwing the only light into the space.

And in the narrow ray of sunlight falling through that window, there stood a trunk, and propped on it was a painting of a girl.

As he followed Alec back down into the loft and everyday gray reality, Jace knew he would fail completely at forgetting the girl from the painting.

***

After a week of paying absolutely no attention in class, Jace broke his resolution and climbed up the stairs to the attic. 

He needed to see her.

He had no idea why, what was it about the painting that didn’t allow him to sleep, but he felt like there was more to it than it seemed. He didn’t even realize how much time had passed until soft footsteps behind him dragged his gaze away. He saw Magnus looking at him from the doorway.

He shifted, suddenly very conscious that he was cross-legged on the ground, staring at a painting of a girl. Oh God, Alec was right, he was truly just a pathetic hetero teenager. (Twenty year old, but whatever.)

“I just… I don’t know.”

He ducked his head, but was unable to not steal a glance at the painting again.

What was it? What was it that he couldn’t quote put his finger on about this painting?

“No, I get it.” Magnus’ voice was strangely devoid of judgement. “Art can be enthralling. Some pieces call to us, capture the reality the way it speaks to us unlike any other artist can. Sadly I don’t know the painter or I’d gladly help you find their other works.”

Jace didn’t mention that he didn’t give a damn about other works. It was this piece. Something absolutely and uniquely connected to just this painting.

“Alec made some pasta if you want.”

And with that, Magnus left, Jace following him with a sigh after a while.

It was just a painting. And yet…

What was he missing?

***

It hit him in the middle of the night, right before he fell asleep, jerking him out of bed and making him run to the attic, stare at the painting in wonder and he realized.

The flower. 

The girl didn’t have a flower in her hair when he first saw the painting. She was just tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

That was why the painting seemed blurry, almost dynamic, almost alive. 

It wasn’t a painting. Jace knew it wasn’t.

Staring at the girl intently he could almost feel the strange mix of faint worry and excitement radiating from the artwork.

With a sigh, Jace went down and fell asleep, ready to embark on a new mission in the morning.

Whoever the girl was, Jace was getting her out.

***

“There is a magical painting in your attic. And when I think about it, I feel like there are a lot more magical artifacts around here. This loft was strange from the get go and you always seemed strangely familiar with it. What’s the deal with all of this, Magnus?”

Magnus looked like a deer caught in the headlights, mouth agape and staring at Jace as the blonde thrown accusations at the man making coffee in the kitchen. Alec just let out another one of his signature long-suffering sighs.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Jonathan…” Magnus’ voice faltered slightly, and he tried to avoid eye contact, but Alec stopped him.

“Just tell him, Mags. It’s not like Jace will rat you out.”

Magnus sent Alec a glare, but turned to meet Jace’s out, gaze murderous and a pout on his lips.

“So fine. Magic is real, I’m a warlock. You seem strangely fine with the idea. But I would know if I had a magical painting in my attic. Your crush on a secessional model has nothing supernatural about it.”

He turned back to his coffee, but Jace wasn’t easily swayed. The girl moved. The flower wasn’t there. Magic was real. It all added up, the strange connection he felt to the painting.

“Wanna bet?”

***

Two years later, at Jace and Clary’s wedding, Magnus would regret taking that bet.


End file.
